


Vacant Anger

by Shay_Nioum



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Dark Side OC, Good Remus - Freeform, Hurt Logan, Logan is a boss, M/M, Pining, Roman likes Logan, Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Remus, Whump, Whump!Logan, Worried Roman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Nioum/pseuds/Shay_Nioum
Summary: Everything was in tatters, completely and utterly destroyed.That was just the only word for it, if there was any other that could take its place and still accurately describe the kind of carnage that was laid out before them.Logan’s neat and orderly ties that had been hanging neatly in his closet were strewn all around in his room, that was if the scraps of fabric that littered the messy floor could even be called a tie anymore. His schedules that he had undoubtedly poured hours upon hours into every waking moment… was torn and shredded. His desk had been turned on its side, the lamp still plugged into the wall as it flickered weakly casting a dim shadow onto the wall. Even his bed hadn’t been safe, the sheets and covers ripped to shreds in a way that was honestly horrifying to look at, if the deep red stain that had dried on the bedding was anything to go by.





	1. Chapter 1

Everything was in tatters, completely and utterly destroyed. 

That was just the only word for it, if there was any other that could take its place and still accurately describe the kind of carnage that was laid out before them.

Logan’s neat and orderly ties that had been hanging neatly in his closet were strewn all around in his room, that was if the scraps of fabric that littered the messy floor could even be called a tie anymore. His schedules that he had undoubtedly poured hours upon hours into every waking moment… was torn and shredded no more than glorified kindling, some of them even nothing more than charred scraps on the ground that still held a steamy residue. His desk had been turned on its side, the lamp still plugged into the wall as it flickered weakly casting a dim shadow onto the wall. Even his bed hadn’t been safe, the sheets and covers ripped to shreds in a way that was honestly horrifying to look at, if the deep red stain that had dried on the bedding was anything to go by. 

Just looking at it all made Roman’s stomach twist in a gruesome manner, as if someone had gutted him. Sinking and twisting a knife into his stomach for the sheer pleasure of making it hurt him. 

And hurt him it did. 

“L..Logan?” His quivering voice called out, his eyes scanning the shadows that flickered on the walls, the walls where deep claw marks had etched themselves deep into the walls. They looked like scars, scars that would never be removed. His heart hammered in his chest like a beast aching to get out through the most primal and disastrous way possible, his lungs were aching and yet... “Logan!” He tried again, being the first to break from the group of the others in order to look in every nook and cranny that was Logan’s ruined room. 

He had to be here, he couldn’t be gone. Even if he had ducked out… that was better than..than this. He needed to find him!

“Logan!” He screeched, practically tearing through the other side’s closet, while the others remained frozen there at the doorway in complete and utter horror. Their expressions easy matched just how Roman felt in that moment, as Virgil remained frozen his face steadily getting paler and paler with each second. And Patton… who looked as if he was a few seconds from simultaneously bursting into tears and fainting at the same time. In one quick movement, Roman snapped his gaze back over to them, “Don’t just stand there!” He snapped ruthlessly, his lips curling back in what could only be described as a snarl through and through. “Help me find him!” He growled fiercely, clearly not caring enough about their own feelings as the pit of desperation starting welling inside of his chest, feeling more and more like a void that would suck him in at any second. 

Desperate thoughts whirled around in his head like a dizzying carousel. 

What if Logan was really gone? He couldn’t be gone… not with the last thing that Roman had said to him being as mean as it was. Not without apologizing for every mean nickname that he’d ever had the gall to the logical side without properly apologizing for them. He couldn’t be gone… no, he just couldn’t be. He couldn’t be dead… Not before Roman could tell him that he l-

Someone had to know, someone had to know what had happened. It must have been pure chaos given the state of Logan’s room. And with pure chaos came...

“Remus!” He barked out the name, and within seconds of his dear brother rising up, and before Remus could let out one of his overly sexual lines, or even comment on the state of Roman’s hysteria that his brother would have just loved in that moment. Roman ruthlessly slammed against the wall, making what little pictures remained hanging up jostle from their position above Logan’s dresser. His gleaming sword pressed against his throat, blood already dripping down the length of Roman’s sword from the light cut that Roman’s roughness had caused in that one moment. The creative side didn’t care, “What happened here?” He hissed out, his teeth bared almost into a snarl, he must have looked monstrous, more monstrous than even the so-called dark sides. “Tell me, or.. or..” 

He didn’t want to speak the threat that he had been about to say. But, even so, Remus seemed to understand as his brother got more and more pale with each second that passed that had the sword pressed against his Adam's apple. 

The dark creative side swallowed nervously, not daring to move a single inch with the sharpened steel scraping against his flesh. “He… “ Remus’ hands gingerly rested on top of the ones that Roman was using to keep him pinned, it was a strangely gentle move and one that most certainly didn’t make Roman feel any better. “He fought Wrath,” He answered as if that was the simplest thing in the world, all while Remus’ stormy eyes met Roman’s earthly brown ones.

They both knew just what that meant, even.. even if Roman didn’t want to. 

“And?” Roman struggled not to choke on his own voice, the dread and guilt that was back nearly suffocating him where he stood. He struggled to breathe in that moment, as he stood there still threatening his brother, and still praying and hoping that this didn’t end the way that he thought it would. He could feel the whimper crawling up his throat, he could feel the way that his sword started to slip in his sweaty grasp. He could feel the despair taking hold of him, just as the way that his eyes started to burn with tears he really didn’t want to shed. 

_ No…no, not Logan. Anybody but Logan. _

He didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve to go like that. He didn’t deserve to be torn apart, and hurt over and over like he was. He didn’t deserve to fight the worst dark side imaginable all by himself, he deserved to have everyone backing him up, he deserved to be protected, and he deserved… he deserved so much better than Roman. That was for damn sure. 

He deserved someone who wouldn’t hurt him, someone who.. who would cherish him, and not make him run off after saying something so rude that it would break his heart. He deserved a man that was ten thousand times better than Roman. 

A pair of hands gently squeezed his own, “Roman,” Hastily blinking his eyes in a valiant effort to get rid of the tears that were undoubtedly about to start streaming down his face, Roman looked back at his brother. His brother who held an almost fond but exasperated look in his eyes.He didn’t understand it, that look. He didn’t understand Remus’ odd look, the kind of look that told him that he should be proud despite the horrifying events which had undoubtedly taken place. “Roman,” Remus gently told him again, his hands shifting to hold his face slowly wiping away the tears. His brother spoke slowly, as if saying it any faster would make Roman more stupid. “He won.”


	2. Chapter 2

A hazy wave of pain slammed into Logan as consciousness slowly but surely came back to him in waves, a first he was only able to feel. The sharp jagged edges of agony scraping across his mind as everything hurt, he couldn’t even imagine moving let alone shambling into a sitting position. He could feel nothing but that blazing pain under the surface of his skin, that and the cool tiles pressing against his cheek as he laid in that helpless position for who knows how long. His throat felt as dry as a desert wasteland, as his tongue laid heavily in his mouth, he couldn’t even swallow without the threat of choking on nothing. He wanted nothing more than to ease back into the unconscious state he had once been in, to feel nothing but blissful nothingness. That would have honestly been a dream come true for him.

However... the second thing that came back to him was his sight, as he blearily blinked his eyes open, gazing at everything that was all around him. The pale cream-colored tiles smooshing against his cheek was the first thing that came into focus, and the next was the numb realization at the toilet that was located just a few mere inches away from him. Logan blinked sluggishly, or at least… he attempted to. As one of his eyes opened easily while the other remained firmly shut crusted over with dried blood no matter how he tried to force himself to open it. 

Panic clawed at Logan’s stomach and up into his throat for a moment.

He couldn’t see… he couldn’t see out of one of his eyes. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t-

The sound that left Logan’s throat was a mixture between a hoarse scream and that of a feral trapped animal that had gotten its leg caught in a bear trap. He wasn’t even fully aware of what sound he was making, just that he was making it, and that if he stopped he’d have to fully come to terms with the fact that he might not be able to see out of one of his eyes. That.. that he would be blind in one of his eyes, and that he would be just that much less useful to Thomas and the others in the long run. This.. this would be something that would ruin him, he needed his eyes, he needed them to work. And if he didn’t have them then… then…

Another broken sound left Logan’s mouth, as he laid on the floor. It was a sound that was far too much like a sob for Logan’s liking, not that he had any say in the matter.

He didn’t even think about sitting up, not with the waves of pain slamming into him at a dizzying pace. For the longest time, he just curled up tighter, disregarding the fact that it made his dislocated shoulder throb angrily at the action. He didn’t care though, considering that there was no one around to see the tears leaking from the one eye that he could see from, further blurring his vision more and more. His body ached as he trembled there, lying motionless on the floor as his forehead pressed against the base of the toilet, a truly humiliating gesture that the others would have laughed at had they seen him right then. 

_ The others… the others! _

The storm in Logan’s mind calmed for a moment. 

Did they even know that he was gone? Were they aware of just what had happened to him, how.. How Wrath had come in the middle of the night after Remus’ most recent failure in causing Thomas distress, how the volatile side had completely lost it on him. Wrecking just about everything in his room, before finally turning on Logan. Did the others know? Did they care about the screams that had been torn from Logan’s throat as Wrath’s ragged fingernails raked across his skin? Did they.. Did they know about the blood that had dried under Logan’s fingernails, as Wrath had squirmed and writhed under him before eventually going completely still? Would they care about how Logan had wept, crawling away until his body could no longer support him? Would they think differently of him now… now that they knew he had taken the life of a fellow side? 

Would they.. Would they hate him? 

Logan dryly swallowed as he thought about the looks on their faces. 

Virgil looking at him in pure disgust, ensuring that Logan couldn’t get anywhere near Patton or Roman. Patton.. Patton and the disappointment that was so much greater than any amount of anger that the moral side could ever show for him. Their fatherly side.. he wouldn’t say it outright, but he would despise him, just like he did with Deceit and the others. He probably wouldn’t want to even be near him anymore, he’d find an excuse to leave and never come back. While Roman… 

Logan’s forehead silently hit the base of the toilet as more tears blurred his vision, sheer dread and panic gripping his throat and refusing to let him breathe.

Roman would have a steady grasp on his sword, with that look of complete determination on his face that would tell Logan that the creative side wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he even took a single step closer. He’d… he’d end him if it was even possible, Logan thankfully wouldn’t have to live with that particular knowledge for long. That would be his saving grace, as Roman’s sword ran right through him, returning the logical side to more than a facet of Thomas, absorbed back into his consciousness as a function and nothing more. He wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that his friends would abandon him, he’d… for once he would feel nothing. 

It was that knowledge, and that knowledge alone that prompted Logan to sit up. 

His arm wobbled precariously the entire time, barely able to keep up his body weight as his other arm hung limply by his side unable to do much other than just getting in the way. His legs weren’t much better, given how his knee throbbed angrily with a deep set of purple and black bruises, and his ankle had swollen to the size of a softball. Wrath had certainly put him through the wringer, and had Logan not fought back the way that he did… most likely it would have been him that had been ended by Wrath’s hands. 

Had he not grabbed the-

“No,” Logan muttered to himself, numbly wiping the tears from his face, he didn’t want to think about that… he didn’t want to think about that moment. The moment he had.. when Wrath had… “No…” He finally whispered again to himself, his voice catching as his bottom lip trembled precariously. 

Logan couldn’t stand, his knee and swollen ankle refusing to hold his weight. So instead, he sat up doing his best to crawl over to the tub at the far end of the bathroom. His bloodied scraped up fingers were trembling as he twisted the knob, and icy cold water came gushing out making the logical side sharply jerk his hand back before it eventually turned warm enough for him to submerge his hands into the stream of water. It tinted red, and Logan nearly sobbed in relief as the pain in his hands, or rather his the skin of his bruised and broken knuckles finally stopped hurting so much. He wasn’t really aware that anything could feel as good as having a jar of crofters after a rough day at work, but here he was, nearly weeping over warm water. 

It took a lot more effort to actually crawl into the tub than he ever would have imagined.

The water within an instant of him submerging himself into it was stained a deep red as flakes of dried blood fell off of him with the still wet patches on his clothes. It felt so good to be surrounded with so much warmth, his aching body slumping lifelessly in the tub as the water gushed around him before going down the drain never to be seen again. The back of his head still throbbed though from where Wrath had slammed it against the corner of his desk, undoubtedly leaving a gash behind that would need to be seen to if he didn’t want an infection to take hold. 

Despite this, Logan set to work scrubbing every inch of himself. Tossing his sopping wet tie clothes to the side so that he could scrub his skin free of every hint of what had happened to him. He scrubbed and he scrubbed until his skin was pink and almost bleeding from the force he was using to press down on himself. It wasn’t enough though, it would never be enough to rid himself of the feeling of blood under his nails, and Wrath’s gurgling choked cried ringing in his ears. He could still hear it, even with the sound of water running echoing in the walls of the bathroom. He could still hear Wrath’s ruthless cried, determined not to die, cries… that would eventually go silent as his body faded away into nothingness. 

“No, no no no no…” Logan's fingers clawed at his hair as he hunched over in the bathtub, “I didn’t mean to,” He brokenly chided himself as if that would change anything, “I didn’t mean to! I just.. I just wanted him to stop!” To stop moving, to stop hurting him, to stop screaming, to stop… breathing. “No!” The logical side’s nails sank into his scalp as he muffled his cried in his knees, his tears blending in the water that was streaming from his hair. He hadn’t wanted Wrath to die, he really didn’t. He just… “I wanted to live… I didn’t want to die.” He whispered, but then again… Wrath hadn’t wanted to die either. So…

What made him so special? 

It was a thought that sent a chill sweeping through Logan despite the warm water he was bathing in, and it was a thought that he really didn’t want to entertain any longer. 

It took far too long to shamble up to his feet, and it took even longer to pathetically limp over the side of the tub just to shut the water off and grab a towel from under the sink. Everything felt as if it was at a slope with how badly he was limping, his legs felt like they’d give in at any second sending him sprawling on the floor just as he had woken up, with the only difference being that he was naked this time. But somehow, he managed to hold himself up, locking his knees and leaning heavily against the sink as he did his best to keep his weight off his swollen ankle. It was honestly amazing, how he felt better from the quick ‘bath’ he had taken and yet so much worse all at the same time. 

Then again… looking in the mirror probably didn’t help matters any. 

What he had thought was just a patch of dried blood on his face, had turned out to be a gash running up his cheek and right over his left eye. It too was swollen, although the warm water certainly seemed to have helped it a little, he’d only be able to tell if he could still see out of it once the swelling went down some and he could actually open his eye. Honestly, he was terrified of just what the answer would be. Would he be forever blinded in this eye, or was the damage purely superficial? Would the others care enough to stick with him through the recovery period? 

That was the question that scared him most of all, as he seized the first aid kit from under the sink getting to work on patching himself up all by himself. Usually, Patton was the one to patch them up if they ever suffered any injury in the imagination, he’d pepper their bandaids with kisses and have them surrounded in blankets on the couch as he made their favorite cookies while they watched the movie of their choice. There was none of that now, just the stinging sensation of pain from the rubbing alcohol, and the sharpness of the needle slowly but surely as Logan stitched himself up. 

There was no love to be found here, not for him. 

“Logan?” The logical side in question perked up at the sound of his name, as he finished up taping the gauze to the side of his face, covering up his messed up eye. “Logan!” It was Roman, screaming his name as if it was the only thing that the creative side could think of. He sounded terrified and so very worried, as his hurried footsteps rushed from the down the steps, that led to their bedrooms. He must have known what had happened then, and yet he still…

He sounded like he cared despite it all.

Logan held his breath as he waited in the bathroom, not entirely certain if he should step out and make himself known to the others, if he should face the music and everything that it entailed, or just… wait. Just wait a little bit longer from them, like a scared child hiding away from their parent after they had broken an expensive vase. Except the vase was Wrath, and he was broken… but just dead, by Logan’s own hands. Killed and murde-

“Logan please!” Roman’s voice cut through his thoughts like a blade, “If you can hear me say something, where are you?! Please!” His voice was nearing hysteria, that much Logan could tell right off the bat. He was worried… he was concerned… he cared… of course he cared. Something warm lit itself in Logan’s stomach despite everything, and before he could even stop himself, or think twice about what he was doing. He reached his hands out, seizing the cold metal of the doorknob. 

Without so much as a second thought, he turned it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Logan looked… awful. 

There was really no other word for it in Roman’s books, there really wasn’t. 

His head snapped over to the sound of the door slowly opening, and whatever he had expected to see… this.. this both was and yet wasn’t it. Just looking at the once stellar looking nerd, Roman wanted to cry at the sight of their resident logical side. It felt like someone had just taken a jagged piece of glass and used it to cut into him and rip his heart out into messy stringy pieces. It was like the world had just dipped out from under him, and it would be impossible to find his footing again. 

He wasn’t even aware that he had been moving forward, until Logan lurched forward having only taken a single step before his ankle no longer able to keep his body up. “Logan!” But he was rushing forward, his arms wrapping securely around the other side ensuring that Logan wouldn’t get a single inch closer to the ground. “Logan! Logan! Logan!” He gushed, moving his arms so that he was practically carrying the logical side now, before making a beeline for the living room couch. “Oh, Logan,” 

Bruises and cuts littered Logan’s skin, there wasn’t an inch of his skin that wasn’t covered in some kind of injury. Just the sight of them made Roman’s heart twist again, this time with the instinctual urge to run Wrath through again and again until he was nothing more than a bloody paste for how he had hurt the man in front of him the way that he did. His fingers gingerly grazed the harsh purple bruises on Logan’s dislocated shoulder, he could imagine the kind of pain that Logan was in right this very moment, and he could imagine how every movement felt like fire to him. He had been in his share of scuffles in the imagination, but even so… seeing it on Logan didn’t feel right. It felt… it felt…

“You’re crying,” Logan’s hand carefully reached up, touching one of the cold tears dripping down Roman’s face, within an instant Roman clasped it bringing those bruised knuckles messily to his lips. “Why?” 

Now Roman really did let out a choked sob at that one little word, the little word that told him so very much about how Logan viewed his fight with Wrath and.. how Logan viewed him in turn. It hurt, that much he could admit to himself, it hurt more than he could ever bear to let Logan know. And even so… he simply smiled bringing Logan’s knuckled to his lips again, reverently kissing them as if it was the first time he had seen Logan in years. But even that would have been preferable to.. to something like this, he would have rather it be ten to twenty years that he hadn’t seen Logan than for him to ever end up like this wondering why Roman was crying the way that he was. 

_I love you, that’s why I’m crying. I love you so so much, and I nearly lost you before I could tell you how much you mean to me. I love you, and you would have died thinking that I thought of you no more than a boring pest and nothing more. I love you, and… I can’t stand to see you in this amount of pain. I love you, and I would take on every bruise, scratch, and cut if it meant that you wouldn’t be in the pain that you were in right now. Because you mean so much to me, and I love you. _

All of it was on the tip of Roman’s tongue, “I…” He swallowed thickly as he gingerly brushed a chunk of Logan’s hair out of his face. “I thought that you were dead.” He finally admitted not daring to drop the love bomb on the logical side after everything that he had been through. “I couldn’t find you, and I thought that.. that you had died and faded to the back of Thomas’ mind. I…” Roman gripped Logan’s hand just a little bit tighter, “I was so scared.” 

For a second Logan’s eye softened, the wrinkles of pain on his face relaxing as he gripped Roman’s hand back just as tightly. 

The smile on his face was a pained but honest one, and Roman would have given every one of his imaginary possessions if it meant that he could see that smile every day for the rest of his life. Logan’s hand released his own, and for a moment the creative side wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, at least not until Logan’s fingers blindly grasped his sash holding on as tight as he possibly could.

There was a look in the logical side’s eyes, one that made Roman’s heart twist and leaped in his chest. “I…” Logan paused for a moment his arm trembling with the amount of exertion that it took to keep holding onto Roman’s sash, “I love you too.” 

In that moment Remus could have knocked him over the head with his morning star and Roman wouldn’t have felt a thing as he giddily stared back at Logan. He loved him. He loved him? He loved him! Logan actually loved him back, despite all of the awful things that he had said to him in the past, despite how he sometimes stole from Logan’s secret crofters' box, and despite how they didn’t always see eye to eye. Logan… actually liked him enough to say that he loved him, with as much difficulty that the logical side had when admitting it during Valentine's day. He… said it, and he meant it. 

“Oh thank god,” Nailed it, “I love you, I love you so much. I was so scared when I couldn’t find you, I.. I threatened Remus and I’m pretty sure that I scared the others too when I yelled at them.” Without even thinking Roman surged forward, his lips peppering all over the unbruised parts of Logan’s face. Trying to be as gentle as possible for the injured side laying before him. “I love you,” He whispered with each kiss, not even caring about the tears pouring down his face in the sheer relief of not only Logan being alright, but having their feelings out in the open. “I love you,” He whispered again, daring to brush his lips over Logan’s one last time. 

Pulling back Roman couldn’t help but to beam a little at the sight of pink that had dusted its way over Logan’s cheeks. 

However, their moment wasn’t to last, not as the hurried thumping of footsteps could be heard rushing down the stairs. It was… not one.. not two… but three people rushing down the stairs, and from the sight of the yellow and black caplet not only had Patton folded and gone to Deceit for help, but Deceit was just as worried when it came to just where Logan was and how he was doing. 

“Logan!” Patton’s expression cracked the very moment that he saw Logan in all of his injured glory laying on the couch, “Logan!” He practically sobbed the other’s name out as he skipped the last few steps and jumped down from the stairs, disregarding Virgil panicked noise as he did. Fear and horror lit up Patton’s face, whereas Roman who had done a somewhat good job at hiding his reaction… Patton just couldn’t, as his wide eyes welled with tears at the sight of Logan’s bandaged eye, his hands trembling and shaking as he stood at the end of the couch unable to take a single step towards Logan. 

Deceit ended up gently laying his hand across the moral side’s shoulder, allowing him just this once to curl up inside his caplet shedding his tears on the fabric of Deceit’s shirt. 

“L,” Virgil nervously picked at the threads of his jacket as his pale face stared back at Logan’s, “What happened?” He asked in a hushed whisper, his voice showing just the slightest hint of getting deeper and darker at the sight of the claw marks that had been bandaged up Logan’s side. He too was shaking, shaking in the kind of way an earthquake did in the wake of destruction and disaster, it was only due to Deceit’s guiding hand did he even think about sitting down so that he didn’t collapse on top of Logan. 

Logan swallowed thickly, this… this really was the part that he had been hoping not to talk about. 

“You don’t have to,” Roman piped up next him, his warm gentle fingers running softly through the logical side’s hair, “If you aren’t ready then you don’t have to tell us what happened to you, or.. or to him for that matter. You don’t need to.” He repeated, and in that moment, Logan felt the blossom of love he felt for Roman grow that much more in his chest, threatening to make his words come out all jumbled up. 

But no, he needed to tell them. 

They deserved to know, and he… he had to tell someone, or else just the memory of it would consume him. 

He had to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw for this chapter: Stabbing, blood, and well... death.

“Who could possibly love someone like you?” Wrath sneering his words twisting inside of Logan like the discarded blood-stained knife laying off to the side, his sharp vicious teeth glinted in the pale flickering light of Logan’s fallen lamp. The grin that he wore on his face told Logan that he thought that he knew the answer, that he thought that he understood Logan enough to do him in to kill him, that he thought that he was good enough to tell Logan whether or not he deserved to die by his hands. “So boring and… predictable. So tell me Logic,” He sneered Logan’s title like it was a filthy word, “Who could possibly love you enough… to even think about saving you right now?”

Logan could taste the copper on his tongue, the ache in his eye that he couldn’t see out of and the sheer desperation that clawed at his insides like a wild beast desperate to get out. He clutched the penknife that Roman had gifted him for his birthday as a joke behind his back with the kind of desperation that could only be seen in sick dying men that weren’t ready to go just yet, willing to cling onto anything and everything to stay alive. His other arm hung limply by his side, agony burning in the deepest joint as he flexed his fingers. There wasn’t much that he could exactly do right now. 

He was right though, wasn’t he? 

Who on earth cared enough about him to save him in this instance? None of the others cared did they? They would have heard the ruckus by now, wouldn’t they? They would have come for him, wouldn’t they? If they cared right? They would have come for him? So…

Why hadn’t they?

Wrath’s claws dug even more so into his side, and Logan bit down ruthlessly on the side of his cheek to stop himself from crying out as the agony burned through him with the force and heat of a burning forest fire. God, it hurt… why did it have to hurt so much in the end? He was going to die… and it wouldn’t even be a peaceful death, it served him right didn’t it? Being so stupid, so boring, and so… so mean to the other sides when they had wanted to help him the past. It served him right to suffer as he was, at the hands of the anger he could never quite get the hang of. And now it had all come back to bite him in the ass. The others weren’t coming, and he was along without anyone here to aid him when he needed them most. All because of the fact that he… he was unlovable, he had made himself out to be that way. 

_ “Who could ever love someone like you?”  _ It was mocking this time, and staring up into Wrath’s brown and orange-tinted eyes, something akin to rage roared inside of Logan. Who could love someone like him? 

“I can, and that’s good enough for me!” 

He practically screamed the words out, as the ice inside of him thawed and melted at the fire that scorched his insides. He was… he was angry, and there was nothing wrong with feeling that emotion, especially with what was happening right here and now. He was angry, he was angry that nobody was coming, he was angry that Wrath was making him feel bad for such a thing, and he was angry for so so much that had happened recently. For not being listened to, for constantly being shoved to the back, for not mattering to Thomas or to the others, for only being good enough when it was Thomas’ opinions on the line and never his own, and for not being able to have a single say in anything. 

He. Was. Angry.

The penknife was cutting into his hand he was clutching it so hard, but in a moment that pain wouldn’t be something that he’d have to worry about. As he did something that Roman would have openly gawked and cheered at had the creative side been there to see it. 

Logan slammed his head forward, hearing the satisfying crack of Wrath’s nose mere seconds before the angry side howled in pain stepping back to clutch at his broken nose that was now gushing blood. Logan could only see red though, both literally from his eye that he couldn’t and metaphorically the longer that he stared back at Wrath feeling just an inclining of satisfaction at the other’s pain that he had brought on. Instead of being the one in pain… he had done something about it, him… Logic. 

“You bitch, you broke my nose. I’m going t-” 

Logan literally and figuratively cut Wrath off before he could even finish his sentence, burying the penknife deep into the orange side’s shoulder with a sickening thud. Something that felt like bile rose in Logan’s throat as Wrath let out another wail of pain, a well of red bubbling around the knife. A part of him wanted to stop as he surged forward, toppling the both of them backwards until Logan was firmly seated on top of Wrath with the other squashed onto his back. Faintly he could feel Wrath clawing and writhing under him, his long pointed nail scratching and gouging at anything he could stand to reach. 

_ If you stop… he’s going to kill you. You know that he's going to kill you. You have to make him stop, do something.. anything! _ A voice that sounded all to similar to Deceit's voice urgently whispered into his ears, in a tone that was bordering on hysterical as Wrath buried his nails into Logan’s shoulder, ripping and tearing at the flesh for just a chance to knock Logan off and finish what he had come there to start.  _ Do something! Please! _

Tears soaked Logan’s cheeks as he abandoned his grip on the penknife, for a second he fumbled pain unlike anything coursing through his veins as he bit back a sob. “I’m sorry,” He choked out, down to Wrath who was still writhing and struggling as he had been before. He didn’t try to stop, not as he felt Logan’s tears dripping onto his face, and not even as he heard the cried coming from the logical side. Wrath was just as he always had been… focused solely on causing harm. That didn’t make it any easier though. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Fuck yo-” 

Logan’s fumbling hands pressed down securing themselves around Wrath’s throat, before he squeezed and squeezed. He could feel the thundering pulse under his fingertips, he could feel the way that Wrath’s chest attempted to take in a breath but couldn’t, he could feel the other side’s thrashing getting so much worse… before it didn’t. He could feel and hear the panicked gasping wheezes that came from the side that was under him, how his hands that had once been determined to claw the hell out of Logan… now pathetically slapped at the logical side’s hands as his very strength was sapped right out of him with each breath that he couldn’t take. Logan saw the entire experience right before his very eyes, of another side dying a very real death. 

He saw it all, all the way up to the ending. 

The ending with Wrath’s tears trickling down the sides of his face, until his eyes no longer held the gleam of life in them. Until Logan’s cramped fingers relaxed, a pulse no longer jumping under his fingers like a hummingbirds wings, there was nothing. Wrath was already starting to feel cold to the touch. His lips were blue and-

Logan stumbled back away from the body of Wrath, his twisted ankle buckling under his weight as he scrambled back with bile burning his throat. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see it anymore. The terrified look of Wrath’s eyes staring back at him burned themselves into Logan’s mind as he stumbled away, the feeling of his pulse under his fingers slowly fading away burned themselves into his nerves so that it was the only thing that he could feel. He couldn’t get away fast enough, he didn’t want to spend another minute alone in this room, no… not even another second. 

He could have cared less about where he was going as he stumbled blindly out of his room, he slammed into the wall more than once in the journey to wherever he was going to. Logan didn’t know where he was, or where he was going with the blood slicking the right half of his face, but in the end, when he felt the cold doorknob in his hand he didn’t hesitate to twist it open. Practically diving for the toilet, as the bile that burned its way up, did so with a vengeance as he threw up into the toilet. 

_ I deserve this pain though, it was.. it was all my fault.  _

It was with that last thought in his head, that he lets unconsciousness claim his mind as he sank to the floor pain radiating everywhere in his body.

Sleep didn’t sound so bad now... 


End file.
